Unforgotten
by ivoryquill
Summary: Upon his return to Mirkwood, the elven prince finds himself longing for his old companions and the days of adventure and excitement. [complete]


It was early summer, the sun was bright, the trees were green, and the creatures of Middle Earth were up and about, chattering happily. The shadow had been removed from the land, the evil purged from their world. everybody had reason to rejoice; they were alive, they were free. and good had triumphed. And yet. the prince of Mirkwood had sunken into a low mood of depression.  
  
He'd been given a lukewarm welcoming upon his arrival. the kingdom was celebrating the success of his older brother, Herudil, in his latest grand achievement. which Legolas suspected was something along the lines of properly dressing himself, but he hadn't asked, and no one had told him.  
  
He had assumed that his absence had been explained by something far less extreme than 'saving all of Middle Earth' to prevent panic within the nation. However, he had not expected it all to be so hushed that he would be greeted with nothing more than a stable boy to take his horse.  
  
But oddly, it wasn't this that troubled the mind of the young prince; he'd become accustomed to such treatment. And though he found it irksome, he'd made his peace with the matter and proceeded to his quarters with a dignified air.  
  
As he swung the door open, he was greeted by a cloud of dust and the scent of stale air. He walked in slowly, the floorboards creaking loudly beneath his feet. Looking around the now unfamiliar sight of the room he grew up in; the long, lazy childhood days spent in its confines were now mere memories. almost a dream even.  
  
Slowly, he began to remove the heavy gear he had worn for the journey, removing his weapons first. His near-empty quiver was set carefully on the ground, two twin blades that had served him so well, and the bow of Lorien. His sapphire gaze lingered on the item for a long while. it was a reminder. of the Golden Wood. of the battles he'd fought, standing strong beside Gimli the dwarf, and Aragorn. the king.  
  
Tearing his gaze away from the precious treasure, he slowly removed his cloak, not casting a glance at it, afraid of the tears that might come at what memories it brought. He undid the fastenings of his outer tunic in an almost robotic action, setting it down on his dust-ridden bed. In the same mechanical motion, he slowly removed the dirt-crusted, weathered boots, setting them carefully onto the ground.  
  
And even slower, he undid the braids in his golden locks, his hands nearly trembling at this point. It seemed that as he was removing these items, he was removing little bits of the remarkable journey from his life, little bits of the memories they left behind. Now, they too seemed nearly a dream. a brief lapse from reality to fantasy.  
  
He stepped over near the window, so quiet, so careful as if afraid to disturb the room after it'd been uninhabited for so long. Setting careful hands on the windowsill, he peered down into the busy city below. Everyone was moving, going about their daily lives as if naught had happened. as if their lives had not been threatened by such a great terror. And that, that was what troubled Mirkwood's younger prince.  
  
It was as if. nothing had happened-- the council, Fangorn, Helms Deep. it was as if it were all some child's fantasy that he'd just waken from to find the dull day-to-day life he suffered.  
  
It had been his dream- adventure, danger, excitement. And now, it was over. Gone as if it had never happened.  
  
* * *  
  
The days dragged on, continued in mundane daily activities that no longer meant anything to him. The simplicity of everyday happenings somehow paled in comparison to the life he lived during the quest. where everyday brought the unknown. Now everyday brought the mundane tasks set by his father, the political duties bound by his rank, and, of course, the constant annoyance of his brother.  
  
In time, he came to accept the general uneventful nature of his life, accomplishing the monotonous tasks set upon him. In time, he came to live like he did before the quest, talking with friends, and pilfering books from the library and reading them on cradled in the branches of a tree beneath the hot summer sun. But time failed to diminish his thoughts of the journey, his memories of such strong loyalty as he stood behind his friends. brothers. knowing that he'd sooner die than allow them to come to harm. brothers he cared far more for than many of those related by blood. He remembered his companions more than anything- all of whom had gone back to their lives. He could picture Aragorn in Gondor, Gandalf off on one of his mysterious errands, the halflings back in their Shire, and Gimli feasting among his people.  
  
And they were all gone now. gone but not forgotten.  
  
And it was on one particular melancholy day that the young prince was preparing for another celebration of his brother's accomplishments. And as always, the feast was prepared to take place outdoors at night- by the dancing light of torches somewhere deep within the forest. And as always, Legolas was left in charge of the preparations while his brother enjoyed the glory he received as Mirkwood's crown prince.  
  
"no no no." Legolas rubbed his temples in frustration; it was bad enough that he was forced to plan the entire event, but he had to deal with incompetent assistants as well. He sighed heavily as he attempted to explain the problem once more. They didn't quite seem to understand the consequences of fires erupting in the middle of a thickly wooded forest, "We need the torches to be shorter! And some sort of a cover!" In a forest like this everything could burn in a matter of minutes." With elves like this in his kingdom, he didn't quite understand how the entire forest didn't burst into flames years ago.  
  
The young elf nodded with the same dazed look that convinced Legolas that not a single word was heard and then headed off. probably to find taller torches.  
  
Sighing, the flaxen haired elf looked over the plans for the night's feast, as always, everything had to be perfect. With a quill, he absentmindedly jotted down the dishes that would be demanded for the evening.  
  
Suddenly, the sound of a struggle was heard in the hallway, followed by an all-too-familiar voice, "Unhand me you elf!" it came in the growl of a dwarven tone down the hall.  
  
Legolas nearly laughed, he was hearing voices now he so dearly missed his companions. But if he was hearing things, he was seeing them too- Gimli son of Gloin was being dragged through the doorway by two very disgruntled Mirkwood guards, one each gripping an arm of the even more irritated dwarf.  
  
Deep blue eyes shot wide open as the elven prince stared at his former comrade in surprise, a bright smile splitting across his face, "Gimli?"  
  
"Of course," came the grunted response, "now will you tell them to release me?!" he made an annoyed gesture at guards.  
  
Legolas chuckled and nodded at the elves, who gave their prince a rather confused look before leaving the room. Once they disappeared down the hall, the elf rushed up to his stout friend and pulled him into a warm embrace, which was enthusiastically returned. Tears of joy shimmered at Legolas' eyes as he turned away, making a show of rolling up the plans for the feast as a guise for wiping the moisture away.  
  
"'Tis been too long." were his quiet and thoughtful words as he turned back to look at his old friend.  
  
"Indeed." nodded Gimli, who was straightening his attire, which was disheveled in his unpleasant encounter with the Mirkwood guards.  
  
"How have you fared since our parting?"  
  
"Not bad. I certainly cannot complain."  
  
Legolas nodded, maintaining a casual façade, as he suspected, his friends had returned to their lives and adjusted fine, "what brings you to Mirkwood?"  
  
Gimli cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably several times, making odd sounds that gave off the impression of a choked animal. He reached up to stroke his beard and made a couple more noises that sounded somewhat like "hurmph"  
  
The elf raised a slender brow, coming to the point where he began worrying that Gimli was choking on something before the dwarf spoke.  
  
"I. uh." he paused and 'hurmphed' a few more times before he began again, "I. mmmissed. your company." the words were forced, but the meaning was genuine, it could be seen in the dwarf's sheepish smile and the gleam in his mirthful eyes.  
  
Legolas' smile was sincere also, and his musical laughter rang through the air before his voice followed in its wake, "and your company was dearly missed as well."  
  
Gimli smiled brightly before clearing his throat and rocking back and forth on his heals, "I. was wondering if. when you have time. you would wish to take those travels we always spoke of."  
  
"I would be honored, Gimli. In fact, I could leave tomorrow even."  
  
After a few more uncomfortable shifts, Gimli nodded and smiled, "On my way in. I heard a mention. of a feast tonight?" he looked up at the elf with a near hopeful smile.  
  
"Yes." Legolas chuckled, "a feast. would you like to attend?"  
  
"Need you ask?" Gimli responded with a small grin, "of course it would be nothing like the feasts back home. ripe meat off the bone."  
  
Legolas shook his head, "of course not."  
  
"But sufficient food for a dwarf like me?"  
  
"Of course, I'll make certain of it." Legolas gave a nod of reassurance, and an amused smile, setting a hand on his old friend's shoulder and leading him out of the room. Perhaps his life wasn't doomed to tedium after all. 


End file.
